Alka Joshi

A Novel

Perfumist of Paris

Lindsay

There it is again. The idea that we women lose track of ourselves. Lakshmi always said henna was a way for a woman to find a part of herself she may have mislaid. Sheela said she wanted to bring the forgotten women back to life because while their painted images were famous, they themselves were invisible; they'd been discarded, like candy wrappers tossed on the ground. Is that erasure of us something other people do to us or do we women do it to ourselves?

"When I look at the ballerinas of Degas or the dancing girls of Lautrec or Titian's Girl in a Fur, I wonder about the female subjects. They were as critical to the artist's success as his skill. They posed for hours, ignoring their thirst or hunger, their aching muscles. Who were they to the painter? What were they thinking while posing? Why did they agree to pose for him? Whom were they supporting with the money they might have been paid? So many questions come up from me. But I find few answers. Why does no one talk about these women? The focus is always on the men - the artists. I started wondering: when I die, who will remember me?  I've raised two incredible girls. Yet the Singhs place them second to boys. Who will remember my daughters? Are men the only figures to be immortalized in history?"

"The measure of us isn't in the day-to-day. And it's not in our past or our future. It's in the fundamental changes we make within ourselves over a lifetime."

"Many would argue with me, but I've often wondered whether Mumtaj herself was in a tomb during her life." ... "What I mean is that she was a woman prized solely for her eligibility for marriage, sold to the highest bidder, with no control over her body or her money. She had to compromise her dignity every minute of every day. My mother and grandmother taught Nasreen and me - and we teach all our girls - to unlearn the ways of centuries. To perfect their skills in classical dance, poetry and literature for their own edification. To satisfy their own physical desires while satisfying another's. To manage their dignity and their money equally."

Caroline

The third and final installment of Alka Joshi's Jaipur Trilogy is titled The Perfumist of Paris. The life of Radha, who leaves her past behind to live in Paris and pursue her dream of becoming a master perfumer, is chronicled in this novel. Radha has two daughters and a husband. However, a significant project given to her forces her to return to her origins and face her son, who she left behind in India, endangering her marital life.

With her exquisite storyline and gorgeous writing, Alka Joshi succeeds once more. The rich tastes and aromas of India, including the Mitti attar and the essence of Paris, were expertly portrayed in this book. I appreciated how the author gave each character their own attention in each book in this series. This book, like the other two, had strong female characters. Even Radha's daughters Asha and Shanti displayed strong female traits. 

I found it interesting to read about how smells were formed, which made me ponder what ingredients and what kind of name I would give my own scent.

It is made simple to remember all the characters by the author's provision of a lexicon of those from the first two volumes. Additionally, I appreciate the book's recipes. The book's sole flaw, in my opinion, was that the first half featured very extensive chapters whereas the second half seemed a little hurried. 

The book was overall enjoyable to read, just like the first two books in the series, and is one that is suggested to wrap up this trilogy.

kyra

a floating read, but the plot was unnecessarily messy and the writing seemed to have an American voice in certain parts which threw me off (small things like the temperature being described in imperial units by an Indian person in France).

Perfumist of Paris A Novel

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